


Persona 3: The Dark Hour

by BokuNoWriterAcademia



Category: Persona 3, Persona Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:42:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25494820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BokuNoWriterAcademia/pseuds/BokuNoWriterAcademia
Summary: The Dark Hour. A period of time where the world is flipped on its head, and danger lurks around every corner. Dangerous enough when one has the "potential" to wield the mystical Persona to defend themselves from the dangers of the Shadows. But what if someone without these powers stumbles into this brand new, absolutely terrifying, world?Well, that is when shit goes down.
Kudos: 5





	1. Part One: Accelerando

April 7th, 2009

11:20 PM

\---------------------

The grand, ornate doors to Club Escapade, located in the very heart of the Paulownia Mall area of Tatsumi Port Island, slammed open with a rather startling ferocity, guaranteed to anger anyone who ventured out to the area in the evening in the hope of having a peaceful walk with the night breeze, and no doubt shattering those hopes to miniscule pieces. And if the noticeably loud slamming of doors in the otherwise sterile shopping centre did not alert every man, woman, child and locust in the area, then the voices of the men who slammed said door certainly would.

“C'mon, To-To.” One man, a middle-aged guy in an ill-fitting suit, with several days worth of stubble and a slightly concerning widow's peak, groaned, almost pouting like a child, as he wrapped his arm around one of his co-workers. “Stay for just a leeettle longer okay? Just another few drinks, right?” Judging from the slurred mannerisms of his speech and the red flushing on his cheeks, the man had appeared to have already had enough to drink, and the person he had his arm around, seemed to be sure of that, as he reached around and removed his drunk cohort's arm.

“Don't you think you've had enough, Nakamura-san?” He enquired nervously, with a chuckle that indicated he would rather be anyone anywhere except for himself in his current position. “It isn't good to keep on drinking on the job, you know. Kurosawa won't be happy-”

“Aw, hell what Kurosawa thinks!” Was the retort of the drunken gentleman, his stance unsteady, as if threatening to topple over at any moment, only pausing for a brief second or two to deliver a series of short hiccups. “That guy's a total tool. And you-” He jabbed his finger into the younger man's rib cage, as if hoping to rip out his heart. “-You ain't any better. Fuckin’ tool, To-To.”

“Please, don't call me that.” The victim of the jabbing responded quietly, in a barely audible whisper, before raising his voice again, at least loud enough for Nakamura-san to hear, even adding a little bit of force to his voice, contrasting his usual, largely timid and subservient nature. “It's getting late. You stay out drinking all you want. I'm going home.”

He managed to push Nakamura away and, placing his hands into the pockets of his suit pants, began a gentle stroll across the mall, tilting his head to look at the fountain that signified the centremost point of the mall. They said tossing a coin in brought good luck. As he stared down into the rippling waters, his fairly average features distorted in their reflection, he felt an odd connection to the superstition, even though his better judgement told him that the supernatural was a fairytale, used to keep kids full of that energy they seemed to have so much of.

“Eh what the hell?” He sighed, producing a single hundred-yen coin from the inside pocket of his jacket, holding it up for a few seconds, allowing the moonlight from the open air to glisten at the edges of the metal, before tossing it high into the sky. There was a small plip, as the coin hit the surface of the water and immediately sank below, nestling down at the bed among thousands of other coins. 

Chuckling, with no less nervousness than before, the young man returned his hands to his pockets, and, without another word to Nakamura, himself or anyone else in the vicinity, walked away.

11:53 PM

\---------------------

The train ride home was as bumpy and uncomfortable as he remembered. He couldn't believe high schoolers took the same journey every single day to get to their stupid academy. Gekkoween, or whatever the heck it was called, he couldn't entirely recall. It had been open for the better part of a decade now, and he had only been in Port Island for half of that time. Apparently it was prestigious; That tidbit of knowledge did not mean one bit to the soft-featured young man. School was school, and generally the fancier it was, the more annoying the kids who went there were.

Sighing, the man moved his hand to loosen his tie a little, before remembering he wasn't wearing one. He positively loathed wearing ties, the choking sensation of stiff fabric around his neck was not for him at all, and he avoided wearing them as much as possible. Hell, if he had the option, he would be perfectly happy to show up at work in jeans and a hoodie, but the dress code dictated that all plainclothes employees needed a suit of some kind, so the man had simply settled on something nice and cheap. Sure, it led to constant ribbing from Nakamura and other superiors, but it wasn't that big of a deal to him; He was just happy to get out of wearing one of those damned choking devices.

The carriage was completely empty, save for him, which was always nice. Just him and the vast expanse of water to look over as the monorail travelled between islands. No one to pester him, it was actually rather calming all things considered. He often found his thoughts coming out to play at times like this, when he was alone. This was one such time.

“You're a damned idiot, Tohru.” He muttered to himself with a dry laugh, leaning his head backwards so it was staring up at the luggage rack directly above him. “A positive retard. Should've just blown off Nakamura-san when I had the chance. Now I've missed the opportunity to get takeaway. What a pain...”

With a resigned sigh, the young man, who was indeed called Tohru, reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a gun. It wasn't a real one, of course. The paperwork hadn't yet come through for that. It was merely a replica of a Nambu Model 60 revolver, standard police issue. It had been a letdown to not get his hands on a real piece of firepower, but the toy in his hands would suffice for now.

“Hands in the sky, bastard.” Tohru announced lazily to no one in particular, as he spun the model weapon around his trigger finger, before pointing it at the seat opposite his own, mimicking a stick-up, like something out of an old flick, like the dozens his father used to own that were currently in storage somewhere out of the city. “You've gotta ask yourself one question: Do I feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?”

It was cheesy and more than a little pathetic, like watching a child play make believe, if the child was a twenty-five year old adult, and was talking to no one in particular.

“This is just getting depressing...” Tohru sighed, carefully putting the moulded piece of death back from whence it came, as the ringing of a small bell laid notice to the fact that Tohru was rapidly approaching his destination. Standing from his seat and dusting himself off, the young man began shuffling his way towards the train's exit. With some luck, he could still get home before his landlord closed up the building for the night.

11:58 PM

\---------------------

“Thank you for travelling with us.” Rang out the cool, metallic female voice, as the monorail doors slid open with a hiss. “Please consider travelling with Kobayashi Rail again in the future.”

“Like I have a choice.” Tohru retorted in what he considered quite a witty manner, hopping down from the carriage and onto the platform of the station. He got that surreal feeling in his stomach and legs again, a result of travelling long distances without the human body actually moving then coming to a sudden stop. He used to despise that feeling; Now, he found it bizarrely comforting. Regardless, he couldn't exactly stop to contemplate his legs feeling weird. He really was in danger of spending the night outside again, lest he wanted to fork over some absurd price for a hotel room. Yeah, like that was happening, with his salary.

As the young man walked through the station, the surreal nature of it all continued. He was the only person in the place. He supposed nobody else was dumb enough to stay out so late, not with all the recent cases of Apathy Syndrome spouting up all over the damn place. It was a nightmare, especially for Tohru, who had all the paperwork for the incidents handed to him. On his way to the exit, he passed a vending machine and, like a scene from some sort of stupidly clichéd cartoon, doubled back to have a better look.

“Maybe I could use a drink after my day...” He pondered, cupping his chin with one hand, as he pulled another hundred-yen coin from his pocket. “Now… Let's see what they have… Eh, coke will do.” He quickly, without wanting to waste any more time than was absolutely necessary (at least, according to his ideas of necessary), slotted the money in, hitting the button, and watching as the drink began to be deposited from the machine, swirling around, and just as it was about to drop down into the slot for Tohru to grab it…

Click.

All at once, everything went dead. The lights inside the machine flickered for a few seconds and died, as did the overhead lamps in the station itself. It was sudden and without any kind of warning. The fact that all power in the building had gone off so suddenly did absolutely nothing to quell the man's utter annoyance at the vending machine. He waited a few minutes for the power to restore itself. This proved to be absolutely fruitless.

“Damn thing!” He almost yelled, although he miraculously managed to keep his tone of speaking from sounding too hysterical, as he delivered a swift punch to the glass exterior of the machine. As per expected, this achieved nothing whatsoever and now Tohru's right hand was in no insignificant amount of pain.

“Son of a bitch… At least give me my money back...” He murmured darkly, briefly considering kicking the machine, before his better judgement kicked in and he decided he didn't want an injured foot, too. Muttering numerous curses to himself, the man stepped back, and allowed the vending machine to win this time, spinning on his heel and walking straight out of the exit.

It was there where he quickly learned that not getting a soda was set to be the least of his worries that night.

“...”

For once in his life, Tohru was completely and utterly speechless, in total awe of the scene that was laid out before him. The sky was a dull green, bathing the entire world in an emerald hue. And that was far from the only oddity embroiled in the sight, nor was it even the strangest one. That award would have to go to the coffins lined up… Well, everywhere. On the sidewalk, in alleyways, even on the road, you name it, there was at least one of those damned things lying there, as if one had stumbled into the world's worst arranged morgue. These two things, the coffins and the green hue, worked in unison to create an atmosphere that was no less unsettling than it was confusing. Unable to prevent a lump from forming in his throat and a knot forming in hks stomach, Tohru stepped out of the awning over the station's entrance, immediately subjecting himself to the vicious glow of the moon. It wasn't quite a full one yet, but it looked like that would only be a day or two away.

“Hello?” He called out, hearing his voice echo around the area. He didn't get a response, for the place seemed devoid of any form of human life. He called out again, still to no avail. He knew he should stop walking, that he should back into the station and wait until the power was restored. Even the street lights were out, and at least with electricity returning, he could feel some sort of confidence that things would return to normal. Yes, that was the safe option to do. Take a few steps back inside, and remain calm.

Tohru took a few steps forward.

Ten minutes after 12:00 AM

\---------------------

Tohru’s polished shoes clicked against the chipped and rugged sidewalk as he made his way down the street, head darting from side to side like an owl, desperately searching for some kind of answer as to what the hell was going on. He had been walking for maybe ten minutes now, although it felt closer to ten hours, and he had not discovered a single person, animal or anything else with a pulse. Was everyone really indoors already? Every last person on the island? It was hard to believe, for Tohru had taken midnight walks in the past, and always encountered at least scruffy brat of a teen violating curfew, and more often than not, there were groups of them. But tonight… Not a soul. And it was more than a little concerning to the young man. A city typically full of bustling life, reduced to… Whatever this was. It was eerie, no doubt about it, and as he walked, Tohru realized one hand was subconsciously tightening an iron grip on the fake weapon in his jacket, in spite of how useless it was. It simply felt good to have around.

Before long, Tohru reached a four-way crossroads. Cars sat there, as if their motors had poofed themselves out of existence, yet more coffins sitting within the vehicles. With no small degree of caution, the man approached one car, looking inside. One lone casket sat in the front seat, while two more lay on top of one another in the back. For a few seconds, he wondered why the hell they were arranged in such a way, but dispelled such thoughts from his head swiftly.

“The hell is all this?” He murmured out loud, dragging his finger along the steamed up passenger seat window, accidentally drawing the letter A in the mist. It didn't take long for him to snap back to his senses and with a panicked gasp, he got to work erasing the rest of the steam on the window using his elbow. Tohru thought back to his childhood, drawing his name on the back window, during rainy car journeys while the trees and scenery passed them by. Old habits die hard, apparently.

That was when he heard it. Quite simply, one of the most blood curdling screams Tohru had ever laid witness to in the entirety of his relatively short life, causing him to snap his head up, all nostalgic memories gone from his mind, as without even thinking, he withdrew the model Nambu. As useless as it may be, it could potentially serve to scare off whoever- or whatever- had caused the scream. It was female from the sound of it, from someone older than a kid or teen, but still fairly young, probably around Tohru's age. All of this, he deciphered from the tone of the scream alone, and for the first time in his life, all that training at the academy seemed to have been useful for something. It seemed to be coming from up north, just a few streets away.

Tohru didn't think, he only acted, breaking into a sprint, gun raised, as he followed the direction from whence the scream came. Another one quickly proved that he was going the right way, kicking up puddles caused by the previous day's rain as he ran. He supposed this is what they called a Fight-Or-Flight mentality. He still wasn't too sure of exactly which one of those two he had chosen. He was getting closer, as more and more sounds came to him. Laboured breathing, some sort of low, yet menacing and deeply sinister, growl, and yet more screams, each one louder than the previous. He was drawing closer. Just around the corner...

Tohru wasn't too sure what he had expected to see when he turned that corner, but what he most certainly had not anticipated was the sight of a lurching monstrosity, towering at least six or seven feet above the man, standing over a young woman, lying on the pavement, blood pouring from a wound on her forearm and seeping into the concrete below.

The young man truly believed for a few seconds that he had taken a little too much to drink back at Escapade, and was currently either hallucinating or was simply blacked out in a nightclub toilet, a theory that was only reaffirmed to him when he pointed his false weapon at the beast. Of course it was some ridiculous fever dream, if this were real, he would never even consider trying to threaten… Whatever it was towering before him, with a gun that didn't even shoot real bullets. To cap it off, he gave a cry of “Hey!”, which probably was not the most heroic, badass or even sensible thing he could have said in that scenario.

Both woman and creature seemed to hear him, as the behemoth slowly turned around to face Tohru, letting out a guttural growl from somewhere on its person, although its lack of any discernible mouth made it hard to see. Now that it was facing the man,not only could he take in its pure scale in all of its glory, but also more of its features. It seemed almost humanoid, with a jet black body, and what looked an awful lot like an oversized noose hanging from its equally oversized neck. One arm was gigantic, hundreds of shards of… Something protruding from the shoulder blade all the way down to the wrist that connected the arm to the massive hand. The other arm, the right one, was non-existent, replaced by a writhing mass of tendrils squirming from his torso. Nothing else could really be made out, the outline of what may have been a face was present on its head, but nothing concrete. For a moment, Tohru made a pledge to never watch another Kaiju film as long as he lived.

“Holy shit.” He stammered, his grey eyes going wide in their sockets, all that bravado and confidence melting away like a summer snowman. He wanted to move, but his body was paralysed with pure terror, unable to commit to the most basic of movements. He quickly understood how that poor woman must have been feeling.

Speaking of the woman, while the shadow turned to face Tohru, she was slowly getting to her feet. She looked to be an office worker of some description, judging from her suit, with one sleeve of her white blouse torn completely off where the creature presumably attacked her, blood coating the arm. Her round hazel eyes were covered by a pair of plain, black-framed glasses, one of the lenses shattered and the other one considerably scratched up, and her hair was of a similar red colour as her blood on the ground, tied up into a ponytail. She stood unsteadily, grabbing her shoulder with her good arm, as she struggled to hold herself up, like she could fall again at any second. Tohru wasn't exactly sure why he was taking in her appearance so much, he just seemed to be focusing more on that than his impending demise.

”Right about now, flight is sounding pretty good.” He commented, taking a step backwards, far too late, as the monster was already bringing its fist down, missing the man by mere inches, and exploding into a mass of black goo on the pavement. As it came down, it had grazed Tohru's ear and it took a few seconds for him to realize the blood dripping from it. This thing was fast and it was deadly. Not to mention bloody ginormous. That too. Wait...

With only the slightest hint of hesitation, Tohru unfroze himself from his fear long enough to dart between the legs of the creature, a fairly easy feat thanks in part to its immense size, and continued that momentum, as he grabbed the woman by the arm. Every part of him told him to leave her be, to get himself the hell out of there. But he just couldn't. He found it impossible. Just leaving someone to die? Everything else aside, Tohru doubted he had the courage for it.

“Hey, what are you-” The woman cut in, seeming to find her voice as this dark-haired stranger grabbed her arm. She seemed somewhat unwilling to just follow this random, semi-creepy looking guy, and Tohru could not exactly blame her for that. He doubted he would be any different, were he in her situation. “You idiot. I-”

“Look, ma’am.” Tohru cut in, his voice finding a more firm nature to it as he addressed her, praying to god that this woman would just shut the hell up and follow him as he instructed. “Just follow me for the time being. Please. I'm with the police... My name is Tohru Adachi.”

He wasn't sure if it was the best idea to reveal his full name in such a way to a stranger in the middle of such an odd occurrence, but it seemed to achieve the desired effect, as the girl shut her mouth and nodded meekly. No more needed to be said and, not giving the atrocity behind them even a second to catch its bearings, they took off running into the night together.


	2. Part Two: Moderatto

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: This part of the story, particularly towards the end point, features a character who has a litany of psychotic and misogynistic beliefs. I feel the need to add here that this is a fictional character, who is meant to be hated by the reader, and his beliefs have nothing to do with my own. Also, trigger warning if you have issues dealing with topics such as that.

April 7th, 2009

Twenty-six minutes after 12:00 AM

\---------------------

“So… You're a cop, right? Please, correct me if I'm wrong.” The redheaded woman asked, as she sat on one of the benches that were located within Iwatodai Station, back where Tohru had been when all the weirdness started going down to begin with. “And, you’re here… Not in… one of those… And not a Shadow, either.”

“Huh?” Adachi wondered, looking up from his watch. It was stuck at twelve midnight, exactly, as it had been for the past twenty odd minutes. That little factor was more than a little weird, considering his analogue watch wasn't powered by electricity, and should theoretically continue to operate, even with the power to the city cut. After confirming yet again for the third time in the past ten minutes that the watch was dead, he resumed attention to the woman, who had revealed her identity as Maimi Matsuda, office worker in Tatsumi Port Island and a seemingly average twenty-three year old. All in all, a perfectly normal girl. Well, she was upon first glance, at least. Something about her appeared… off. One thing in particular…

“You know, you speak like you're familiar with this.” He added with a brief chuckle, fully intending that as a joking comment with zero real seriousness behind it whatsoever. However, the look upon Miss Matsuda's face when she heard the words coming from the cop's mouth gave him cause to double take, his gaze piercing her own with a questioning look, asking “Wait, are you...”

Maimi looked fully ready to reject the question, presumably breaking in with some excuse for her telling expression that would neither be convincing nor even remotely interesting to listen to, her mouth even hanging open in a gawking manner as she prepared to speak, but something within her, whatever it may have been, changed her mind for her, and she closed her mouth. A few more seconds of awkward silence between the two passed, before the woman moved to speak yet again, this time in a more confessional tone.

“Yes.” She conceded with a meek nod of her head. “Yes, I have experienced this before. From how you speak, I gather that this is your first time. I've known of this for around a decade now… Ever since that explosion...” And she fell silent for the second time in the past few seconds, as Adachi struggled to take in what she had just said, placing his fingers on his temples, as if trying to steady them and prevent his head from blowing apart into thousands of bloody fragments.

“Woah… Don't you think you’re moving a bit… fast there?” He enquired, spinning the false revolver around his fingers without even taking notice of what he was doing. Yet another habit, in a life that was rapidly becoming full of them. “I mean… What the hell are you going on about? Seriously, I am so confused.”

With a sigh that signalled loud and clear the statement, “You're an idiot”, Maimi got up from the bench, looking out into the street just across from them. A length of her skirt was tied around her mess of an arm, soaking up the blood and preventing any more flow from the wound, at least for the time being. Surprisingly, that had actually been Tohru's suggestion; He had earned himself a slap to the face for it, but now that Matsuda had gone through with it, it seemed to be working well enough. Today was providing all kinds of reasons why the police academy had not been a total waste of his time. As her eyes scanned over the road, she began speaking, with her back to Adachi, which seemed a tad rude.

“I don't know why, or how...” She explained, her voice low and monotone, much like a disinterested child reading a particularly dull excerpt from a book in school. “But ever since I was a teenager, I've been able to experience this… this dark hour, as it's called. Adachi-san, there are twenty-four hours in a day, correct?”

Before he even had time to form a response, she was carrying on with her speech. What a damn bitch… Tohru kept that thought to himself, for what should be very obvious reasons, and allowed her to continue.

“Well, wrong. There are twenty-five, in actual fact, not that many people would know of this.” She pointed out towards the caskets sitting around the place. “All these coffins… Those are people. People who don't even know the Dark Hour exists. When the time strikes… They transform. You say it's been about half an hour? In another thirty minutes, the Dark Hour will come to an end, time will resume and all these people will carry on as if nothing happened. Time will progress as usual, until the next night.”

The man was starting to get agitated, standing up and hovering alongside the woman as he stared down at her. He positively towered above her, a giant in comparison to her small figure. If he wanted to… Well, it would be so easy… 

No.

With a shake of his head, Tohru Adachi banished such thoughts from his mind. He wasn't entitled to anything right now, aside from answers. And answers were just what he desired. He had no reason to throw it away by letting his darkest thoughts get the better of him.

“Look, if- if all that is true- which I really doubt- then why the hell am I here? Why are you? Is there any reason behind it all?” He asked, his voice teetering on the verge of hysterics, partially brought on by the stress of the situation and partially by the attempt to banish the depraved thoughts from his brain. Maimi remained cool as a metaphorical cucumber, shaking her head softly as she responded.

“That much, I can't answer, Adachi-san.” She nearly sounded disappointed in herself, angered that she didn't hold the answers. There really should not have been any reason for her to feel in such a way, considering she still knew more than Tohru could even begin to comprehend. He felt a strong urge to speak up, to tell her to stop being so damn down on herself, but before he could get the chance, he saw her body tense up. It did not take a genius to deduct the reason behind it.

Crawling towards them, from across the street, was a gathering of three or four of what Matsuda called Shadows. They were much different in appearance to the previous one that the duo had encountered back, these ones were small, almost like grey-black blobs, with a pale blue mask covering what Adachi assumed to be a face. Spindly arms jutted out at random angles from the writhing mass that made up their bodies, and they were moving fast, gliding across the ground as if they were ice skating. The very sight of it caused the man to take a step back, and yet Maimi stood her ground. He wasted no time in reaching out to grab her.

“Come on, let's get the hell out of here!” He encouraged, his voice strained as he tugged on her wrist that wasn't bloodied, but without a single word, she responded by shaking him off and adopting a confident stance, one radiating power and control. She seemed to know what she was doing, but Adachi had not forgotten what had happened to her last time she faced one of these things. In his mind, she was being a complete idiot, and he could not for the life of him understand what she was doing.

“I am thou.” She suddenly said, her cool and collected voice cutting through the groans of the Shadows like a knife through butter. “Thou art I… Come forth, Aclys!”

A burst of light emitted from the woman, forcing Tohru to jam his eyes shut for fear of his retinas burning out, and when he opened them again, he saw a new figure. Standing just behind Maimi was a monster who almost seemed like an inverse Shadow. It was glamorous and elegant, wearing white from head to toe, from its greek-esque toga to the crown of thorns atop its featureless head. It was slender, too, and gave off a sense of safety, that anyone in the same area as it was would be protected by this guardian angel. A rush of ruthlessly strong wind flowed from the angelic being, tousling with Adachi's black hair and beige suit jacket, threatening to blow him off his feet. It appeared to be having a similar effect on the Shadows, who dug their claws into the asphalt, clinging on to prevent themselves from being blown away by the sheer awe-inspiring presence. Only one being seemed to not take any notice of the creature, and she slowly began walking towards the Shadows, adopting a confident strut, using one hand to push her glasses further up the bridge of her nose.

“Come, Mazio!” She hollered at the top of her lungs, and the greek angel moved in, slicing towards the Shadows at breakneck speed, before splaying its hands forward and emitting a stream of what seemed like pure electricity, frying the monsters before it. Tohru watched on, eyes widening, as some of the Shadows faltered and disapperated into nothingness, but others clung onto life, letting out squeals and roars of unfiltered fury. Maimi for her part showed no kind of reaction, as she stood watching. It almost appeared as if she was commanding the lightning-bolt saviour straight out of Greek mythology.

“Shit.” Was all the detective could muster in response as he took in the sight before him. Just what the hell was this? Some sort of action flick? Maybe, he really was out cold back at Escapade. Regardless, before any more time for contemplation was allowed, it was Matsuda’s turn to grab his arm.

“Come on.” She encouraged, as her God-like protector brought down another blast of lightning that splattered the tarmac with deep, jet black blood, belonging to the attacking abominations. “They won't stop zeroing in on this position now that you're here. They won't let it stop, and we still have nearly half an hour until time resumes as normal! My Aclys won't be able to take them on for that long. We're better off running.”

Running. Tohru Adachi had been doing his fair share of that tonight, and it seemed like the time had come for yet more. Alas, as more Shadows gathered on the street, even looking down at the pair from the rooftops of neighbouring buildings, there was limited time to lament this factor. So Adachi did what he did best.

He took off after the redheaded woman, as their protector disappeared from view, leaving nothing to hold back Shadows besides their own speed. Neither of them looked back even once, for if they did, they would have seen something rather odd. Something different from the Shadows. Something that almost resembled a human being.

“Well damn.” The man groaned in a jovial manner, a broad, deranged grin spreading across his face as he worked on spinning the cylinder of his revolver, inserting three bullets with unparalleled ease. “I was hoping I'd get to meet Adachi face to face right now. Ah well, I can wait.”

October 8th, 1998

12:24 PM

\---------------------

Another day at work. That was how these things tended to go, the same routine, day in, day out. Akira would every day, without fail, show up to work at eight AM on the dot, working long into the early hours of the evening, where he would go home, go to sleep and prepare to repeat the cycle all over again. He did not particularly mind this cycle; Anything that minimised time at home with his wife was a plus in his book.

Another part of Akira's schedule that he rather took a liking to was lunchtime. For half an hour, between twelve and half past twelve, the time was his to do whatever he wanted. Granted, this free time was so limited he barely had time for a rushed lunch, but it was still nice to take a break before hunkering back down in the laboratory with his supervisor for another five hours. Even as the middle-aged man was walking through the spotless, impossibly white corridors of the facility back to his department, he held a cup of instant ramen in his hand, finishing off the remnants on his way to his station.

It wasn’t long before Akira came to a heavily secured door, protected by two seperate scanners. Dumping the cup in the trash can next to said door, the scientist lifted up the lanyard around his neck, placing the keycard on the end of it against one of the scanners, while resting his free hand on the second one. The process took a matter of milliseconds, before the scanning was concluded as successful doors slid open with a satisfying hiss, allowing Akira entry to the lab within.

You could always trust Kirijo to come up with efficient security, that much was a certainty.

“Ah, back from your break.” Came the clean, chipped voice of key Kijiro Group member, Shuji Ikutuski, who stood in front of one of the many wall-length capsules that lined the entirety of the lab, clipboard in hand. “And early, too. Glad to see your appetite for innovation is greater than your appetite for food!”

Ikutski’s chuckle from his own mediocre joke ringing in Akira's ears, the man walked over to his supervisor, standing alongside him as they glanced into the contents of the capsule. Inside was a man, or at least a boy, with flaming red hair, strapped down to a gurney within as to prevent any sudden movements. This particular division of the Kirijo Group, that alongside Ikutski and Akira, contained ten other men, one of whom was the CEO of the group himself, Kouetsu Kirijo.

“Is... Minazuki still… under?” The blonde scientist enquired cautiously, his supervisor's gaze never leaving the young man within the tube, even as he answered the question, removing his glasses and wiping them clean while he spoke.

“Sadly, he's still out like a newborn.” Shuji responded in a manner that nearly sounded a little sad. That was no big surprise, for out of their five… Well, Akira hated to call them test subjects, but that's exactly what they were, and out of the five of them, Ikutsuki made it no secret that he considered the red-headed male, Sho Minazuki, his own personal accomplishment, like a son of his own. Akira assumed that was just a result of Shuji being the one who brought Sho into the lab on that fateful day.

“Right...” Answered Akira, shuffling uncomfortably, tugging at his striped tie. “And… what of the others? Are they all progressing? Is… Is she showing any success?” As he said this, Ikutsuki finally turned his head to face the scientist for the first time since his arrival, and Akira finally took in how small he was when compared to the long-haired gentleman who towered above him in stature. 

“Matsuda-san, I do assure you that everything with the young girl is going at a perfectly reasonable pace.” Shuji explained, returning his elegant spectacles to his face, where they concealed his vivid hazel irises. “She's certainly a prime specimen. One could even say the creme de la creme of our experiment. Of course, Sho and Takaya both show more potential than she does right now, but every beautiful butterfly has to start off as a caterpillar, correct?”

Swallowing the lump in the back of his throat, Akira Matsuda nodded. Although he would never admit it to Ikutski or anyone else for that matter, he had his reservations about this experiment. They had taken young children, Minazuki was barely four years old and even the oldest subject was only around sixteen years of age. It felt worryingly like abducting children and treating them like sheep. Yet, on the other hand, every child was either in an orphanage or on the streets when Kijiro found them. They had nothing else to strive for, and the experiments could grant them a new purpose if successful. That was what Akira told himself, anyway, to quell the wave of guilt that would crash over him at the most inappropriate possible times.

“Matsuda… Kirijo-san is getting old...” Shuji suddenly started saying, looking up to the fluorescent strip lighting on the laboratory ceiling. It wasn't quite clear if he was talking to Akira or himself. “He’s a grandfather at this point. He… Well, I daresay he isn't long for this earth. He could pop his clogs at any time. And I think he knows it…”

“Uh, sir?” Matsuda tried to cut in, but he was silenced once again by the pure power behind Ikutuski's voice, as he looked at his subordinate with a polite, yet determined, smile.

“Matsuda, it will be our job to carry on Kirijo-san's work, even after his death. We will do everything we can to make his dreams a reality, if not for him, then for the rest of the world. Only we can do this. Only us. We are the selected few. So...” His smile grew wider, more friendly than ever before as he set a reassuring hand on Akira's shoulder. He had all the air, grace and good humour of a man who could be trusted. A man who would never let Matsuda, or anybody else, down.

“... Ready to change the world?”

April 7th, 2009

Forty minutes after midnight

\---------------------

As time progressed, Adachi and Maimi were eventually able to find a safe place for them to wait out the Dark Hour. It was a bit of a shame that the place was an abandoned building in Port Island's red light district, that just screamed “sketchy”, but beggars could rarely be choosers and at this point, Tohru would have gladly settled for a cardboard box, if his safety was guaranteed. As the two sat across from each on a pair of worn, faded armchairs that may have once been purple velvet in the building's dilapidated lobby, Matsuda's guardian angel, or as she called it, her “Persona”, stood behind the redhead, observing the two, and keeping them safe from harm. It seemed unlikely that any Shadows would visit this place anyway. Regardless, Adachi still had several boatloads of questions and the young woman was slowly working her way through answering them.

“So, let me get this straight...” He said, settling his head in one hand lazily, as if trying to prevent himself from falling into a deep sleep. “You're a… ‘Persona user’, which lets you use that big thing behind you to battle those… Shadows. You can be in this Dark Hour thing because of your Persona, and you dedicate yourself to fighting the Shadows?”

A short nod was the woman's only response.

“Right. And I can be here right now, instead of being a weird coffin freak, becauussseee… I have one too?”

“Not necessarily.” Maimi answered. Great. The one time she actually said anything was to dash his hopes of having kickass superpowers. That was just typical. “Two types of people awaken in the Dark Hour. The first are Persona users. The second group consists of the poor fools who the Shadows have marked for death. Those recent cases of Apathy Syndrome? All a result of selected people being attacked by Shadows during the hour. I don't wish to alarm you, but… You likely fall into the second category. You don't exactly strike me as a Persona user. It's a very particular talent.”

Talent.

Great. Now the bitch was insulting him. Tohru had no doubt the pouting scowl on his face showed, as he opened and closed the chamber of his model Nambu, over and over again, the only thing he really had to do to keep himself occupied aside from talking to Miss Mystery opposite from him. Evidently taking notice of the repetitive and fruitless task, what nearly constituted a small grin appeared on Maimi's face.

“You know, a friend of mine told me that you can modify those things.” She suddenly stated out of the blue with no rhyme nor reason. “And the parts needed are fairly cheap. As long as you have the bullets and the know-how, it isn't that difficult. Maybe you should try that, if getting your hands on a real weapon is such an ordeal.”

“Is that so?” Adachi enquired, pointing the revolved at her and squeezing the trigger, a small, barely audible click ringing through the decrepit room. “How would a girl like you know that something like that.”

“First off, misogyny much?” Matsuda retorted, although the smile on her face was in an ever-growing state. “And secondly, I just told you. A… friend told me about it. He knows… knew a lot about firearms and the sort. Just thought it might be some reasonable advice for you, since you love that little toy so much.”

“Hm, fair enough.” Adachu conceded with a shrug, placing the prop back in his jacket pocket. It was a little embarrassing to be caught waving it around like a kid playing make believe, but he wasn't going to push it any further. What was the point? It would only cause inevitable problems down the line. Besides, as much of an annoying bitch as Maimi Matsuda was, he was starting to get a feel for her-

The crack of the gunshot echoed through the small lobby, feeling for all the world like a million decibel fire alarm blaring with a goal of destroying all of one's auditory functions. Slowly, Maimi raised her hand to her neck, letting out a small gasp, groping at a hole in her throat from which a small fountain of blood spurted. It was messy, not a pretty sight by any means. Even looking at it, Adachi felt the sudden need to vomit. A small shocked expression on her face, the woman's eyes swiveled up to face Tohru, before she fell forwards out of the chair, hitting the shagged rug with a dull thud, her Persona disappearing from view.

She was dead. In the blink of an eye, snatched away from the land of the living.

Adachi jumped to his feet, eyes scanning every dark nook and cranny for the one behind the gunshot, but he could see absolutely nothing. His heart was thumping hard enough to tear itself right out of his chest, and the man suddenly felt alone and unsafe, a deep pit forming in his stomach. That was when he heard it. A slow, sarcastic clapping coming from the stairwell that led up to the upper floors of the building, a staircase coated in shadow. A figure could be seen moving towards the detective.

A Shadow? No, it seemed too humanoid for that. Besides, could a Shadow even use a gun? That seemed unlikely. The figure's silhouette was becoming more and more firm as it drew nearer at an unbearably slow pace, for the entire world seemed to be in slow motion, the only noise in Adachi's ears being the slow clap of the figure, and the tick-tock of an old clock mounted on the wall. The first thing to fully come into view was their clothing, a black suit with a loose red tie and brown dress shoes. They were clearly male. As they drew closer, more and more became visible of them. A slim jawline, messy black hair, it all seemed ever so familiar. 

Wait.

What?

“Well, that was a letdown.” Tohru Adachi said nonchalantly as he came into view. “Bang, and the bitch is gone. I expected more of a fight outta a Persona user. Such a shame… Christ.”

“What the fuck?!” Adachi yelled, stumbling backwards and nearly falling over the armchair, grabbing his useless gun from his pocket. The clothes were different, Tohru could never imagine himself wearing a tie of all things, and his eyes were a radiant yellow, but there was no mistaking it. He was staring at himself. Or someone who looked very much like him.

“Surprised?” The newcomer asked with a smirk, and all of a sudden, he was standing behind Tohru, gun pressing into the man's temple. He leaned in and whispered into Adachi's ear, “I don't blame ya. Shit's crazy, I know. Seeing yourself must really put a spin on your evening! Heh...”

Adachi's breathing was laboured. This… other version of him had a revolver to his head. The revolver which killed Maimi Matsuda. He had no doubt that unlike himself, his double had it fully operational and loaded. He couldn't move, he couldn't speak, he could barely breathe. Beads of sweat were breaking out across his forehead and trickling down to his brow, where they collected. The other Adachi simply laughed again and in an instant, he was sitting on the chair the redheaded woman had fallen off, holding the gun to his own head.

“Don't look so surprised though, you tool!” He laughed, pointing to the chair. “Sit down, kid. Let's have us a chat.”

Reluctantly, Tohru did so, as if this… thing's words were hypnotic, forcing him to do its will. As he took the seat, in the blink of an eye, the other Adachi was standing on the scratched-up coffee table that stood between the two armchairs.

“You're probably wondering who the hell I am.” It guessed correctly. “Well, simply put, I'm you. And you're me. That's all there is to it.”

A Shadow. That must be it. This crazy apparition surely had to be a more potent Shadow. Were they capable of human forms? Did they have connections to humans? Did each individual human have a Shadow and was this his? None of these had been answered by Maimi and now, Tohru had no chance of finding out. Suddenly, the Shadow was back in its seat.

“You shot her.” The real Adachi finally spoke up, his voice bursting with anger and hurt and confusion. “You killed that woman. Why? What was the point of that if you're my Shadow? Wouldn't you want me dead?”

The Shadow- if it indeed was one- shook its head disapprovingly, tutting. “Tohru, Tohru, are you such a brainlet? Maybe the guys at the station were right about you. You're a useless sack of shit. We're a useless sack of shit. That Matsuda girl said it herself: We have no talents, no anything.”

“Th-That isn't true!” Adachi yelled, bolting up from the chair in his rage and panic. “I studied my ass off to get where I am today! If you really are my Shadow, surely you know that!”

“Oh, I do,” Shadow Adachi responded calmly, cleaning the barrel of his gun on his tie. “And look where it got us. Top marks at police academy and we're a low-ranking detective in this shitty man-made island, where no one respects us. We live paycheck by paycheck in a rundown, crappy apartment with a bitch of a landlord that we would love to put a few bullets in!” Suddenly, he was on the armrest, his hand caressing the real Adachi's jaw. “All that work, for this life. Does that really make us happy? Sure. We worked ourselves to death, but at the end of the day, it's the talented that this world favours. What the hell's the point in trying?”

One blink and the Shadow was now standing in the middle of the room hands in pockets, as it sighed. “I mean, we're never- and I mean never- gonna get anywhere in life. So why not have our fun?”

It appeared right in front of Tohru, outstretched forward and gun pressed to his forehead, the trigger thrusted in the detective's direction. 

“Wha-”

“C'mon, To-To! Pull the trigger! Unleash that desire!” The Shadow yelled. “Let's have some fun! Make the most of our life before it ends! We don’t wanna remain a pushover loser. We wanna be free! All it takes is one little step. Just accept it! Accept me!”

“But… You killed Matsuda… Why would I...”

“Oh, don't take that moral high ground bullshit!” Shadow Adachi growled, angered. “The thoughts you had about her… You could hide it from that whore, but not from me. Not from yourself. We're despicable, Tohru! And I for one am done pretending. Once you accept me, it'll only be a matter of time before it alllll works out.”

He shouldn't. He couldn't. He was expected to accept this… this thing? This murderous lifestyle. Adachi felt weak. No, it could not possibly be a part of him, it was an impossibility. Back in high school, the academy, work...

It was all true. The Shadow was a part of him. There was no point in denying it. It was plain and clear.

“I spent years putting on this nice little pushover personality. A nice guy, someone who could be relied on...” He muttered gently. The Shadow nodded, grinning like a psychopath. There was nothing left to do. There were maybe five or ten minutes before the Dark Hour ended. 

“Life will be so much more fun.” It urged. “Is there anything more boring than complaining about things you can't change? Let's take the plunge.”

Slowly, Tohru Adachi leaned forward, his finger tightening on the trigger. His first time feeling a real gun. He didn't know what to think, everything was a blur. Could he still back out? What would happen to him if he did, Eyes jammed shut, Tohru squeezed the trigger.

And then, all was clear.


End file.
